Search this blog

Administrator

Scholar-in-Residence / Executive Advisor of The Voice of the Martyrs in Canada. Has served with VOMC since 1997. Member of the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada's Religious Liberty Commission. Member of the Academic Board of the International Institute for Religious Freedom. Visiting Professor of Oklahoma Wesleyan University (2003-2006). Author of "In the Shadow of the Cross: A Biblical Theology of Persecution and Discipleship" (Living Sacrifice Books, 2004).

Subscribe

Saturday, January 31, 2009

A truly biblical theology of persecution requires an understanding of a biblical view of history and of suffering. The study of how history was viewed by the peoples of the ancient world is a fascinating one. While time and space do not permit us the luxury of a thorough investigation, it is accurate to say that the Jews were rather unique in their view of history.

Speiser makes the keen observation that the Bible is not so much a chronicle of events and thoughts worth recording as it is an interpretation of significant happenings (Speiser 1976: 2). The Bible is, thus, "essentially a philosophy of history" (Speiser 1976: 2). The way that Israel viewed history was startling, particularly in comparison to the two dominant cultures with which it interacted: Egypt and Mesopotamia.

By way of introduction, let me propose, by means of illustration, the Mesopotamian, the Egyptian, and the Biblical views of history. An explanation will follow.

The Mesopotamian cultures[1] saw history as a chaotic meandering, subject to the whims of capricious, untrustworthy gods who might turn on them at any moment. No one, not even the gods, knew where history was going. No one god was the ultimate source of power and authority. Indeed, none were truly omnipotent (Speiser 1976: 3) Nothing in the universe was, therefore, permanent and absolute; nothing could be taken for granted. History was dynamic but unpredictable. The only hope of averting disaster or misfortune was by seeking to propitiate the gods somehow. Perhaps, it was hoped, some sort of favourable decision might be rendered on behalf of the one making the offering. Since the gods were capricious, this was never a certain thing. It was important, therefore, to find out what had apparently "worked" in the past. If it could be shown that a certain offering or ritual had proved effective before, this provided a possible key to pleasing their deities in the present.

The past then became very important as a check against the reoccurrence of past disasters (Speiser 1976: 4).[2] The past, it was hoped, might provide keys to knowing how to propitiate the gods. There was, therefore, a need for constant watchfulness and an increasingly elaborate ritual. "The cosmos, in short, lacked a true basis for an ethical approach to life. Form rather than content promised the best protection against the whims of heaven" (Speiser 1976: 4)[3]

The ziggurats are a prime example of the hopes of the Mesopotamians to forge a link between heaven and earth, between immortals and mortals in their pursuit of survival. The ziggurats also reflect the other tenet of the Mesopotamian worldview; the belief that human society was an exact replica of the society of the gods with the ziggurats serving a link between the two. Just as no god could claim absolute divine authority, it was impossible for any human ruler to claim such rights. The concept of a divine ruler was foreign to Mesopotamian thought (Speiser 1976: 3; Hallo and Simpson 1971: 175). The authority of the king was thus doubly restricted. As Speiser (1976: 3) points out:

On the one hand, his mandate stemmed from the gods, to whom he was accountable for his every action. And on the other hand, the king was subject to the will of the assembly of his elders, just as the head of the pantheon was bound by the wishes of his celestial assembly.

These twin checks on the power of the mortal ruler – one cosmic and the other societal – had a direct effect on the Mesopotamian concept of state. In these circumstances, the state could evolve into nothing but a kind of democracy. For government by assembly and the circumscribed authority of the king could scarcely add up to anything else. The main beneficiary was the individual, whose rights were protected by the law – more specifically the cosmic, unalterable, and impersonal law called kittum, an approximate synonym of Hebrew ’emeth. The ruler was ever the humble servant of the kittum, never its master. The presence of writing was a further safeguard against abuses or distortions on the part of the king.

These laws, which protected the rights of the individual, can be found in the vast numbers of documents that have been found in Mesopotamian archeological digs. While this dynamic view of history resulted in societies run, for the most part, by the rule of law, the lack of an absolute authority made it impossible to determine whether the laws were ultimately right or moral. No values were ultimately enduring. The collapse of the Assyrian and Babylonian empires was ultimately due not so much to the superiority of their enemies than to the crushing weight of their internal structure as they sought to find form and security within the chaos of their worldview. The Mesopotamians were an expansionist, progressive people who, because of their worldview, had to keep looking over their shoulder in fear. Lacking absolute standards, they sought security in form and ritual that increasingly became too taxing to maintain. Trying to find a way to live securely in a chaotic universe, tragically, led eventually to their collapse.

The Egyptians, on the other hand, held to a static view of history. The cosmos of the Egyptians was the outcome of a single creative process, unlike the progression of events in the Mesopotamian (and Biblical) creation story. There was no kittum concept among the Egyptians either. In its place was a personal absolute law in the person of the Pharaoh, the incarnation of the creator. The king was a god whose world was as stable and unchanging as the rhythm of the Nile and the constant shining of the sun (Speiser 1976: 5; Livingston 1987: 123). History was wrapped in the reign of the divine king. There was no codification of law as in Mesopotamia. The word of the Pharaoh became law as soon as the words were spoken. In the Pharaoh there was stability and order. As Livingston (1987: 123) points out:

When the Pharaoh was crowned, he did not become a god; he was simply unveiled as a god. In the cult, the Pharaoh was high priest; in the government, his rule was the absolute; in war, he was the army; in art, he symbolized Egypt. The Pharaoh could delegate his power to others, and at times his underlings may have seemed more powerful than he; but his power was repeatedly reemphasized. There is no clear evidence that a real revolt of the people was ever mounted against him. Even invaders were absorbed into the concept of the Pharaoh’s supremacy and ejected as soon as possible.

Since the kingship was supremely important, the Egyptians gave very little heed in their records to events not directly related to the throne (Livingstone 1987: 100).[4] The records make no reference to the predecessors of the Pharaoh or to his successors; history is the reign of the Pharaoh. The calendar begins with his coming to the throne and ends with his death. The linear concept of time with a continuous era was completely foreign to the Egyptian worldview. Frankfort (1958: 20-21) notes:

The Egyptians had very little sense of history or of past and future. For they conceived their world as essentially static and unchanging. It had gone forth complete from the hands of the Creator. Historical incidents were, consequently, no more than superficial disturbances of the established order, or recurring events of never-changing significance. The past and the future – far from being a matter of concern – were wholly implicit in the present…the divinity of animals and kings, the pyramids, mummifications – as well as several other and seemingly unrelated features of Egyptian civilization – its moral maxims, the forms peculiar to poetry and prose – can all be understood as a result of a basic conviction that only the changeless is truly significant.[5]

To reconstruct a history of Egypt is notoriously difficult. Often private and business documents prove to be more reliable than royal ones. Records from western Asia that date from the same period - diplomatic treaties, trade, wars and other contacts with Egypt by other civilizations - often prove more enlightening than actual Egyptian documentation.

It is difficult to conceive how two cultures could have existed in such close proximity to each other, with frequent interaction between the two over thousands of years, yet socially and religiously they differed fundamentally.

With Israel in close relationship both historically and geographically, does the Bible reflect a similarity with either the Mesopotamian or Egyptian view of history? The answer is both yes and no.

Speiser (1976: 9) argues:

It is abundantly clear today that, of the two major centres of civilization in the area, it was the distant Mesopotamia and not neighboring Egypt that left the deeper cultural impression upon Israel. This was to be expected. For in the first place, the patriarchs had their roots in the land across the Euphrates and in the second place, the Egyptian way was static and isolationist, whereas the Mesopotamian was dynamic and expansive – naturally suited to reach out to other lands, Israel included….

The independent evidence of the law, moreover, serves to emphasize the fact that in the wide area of cultural correspondence between Mesopotamia and Israel, we are likely to be confronted with cases of actual kinship as opposed to mere coincidence. In both societies the law was impersonal and supreme; the king was its servant and not its source and master. Furthermore, the respective legal disciplines are closely linked in spirit and in content, not withstanding numerous differences in details. And because many of the features that are common to both lands can now be traced back to the very beginning of Mesopotamian civilization, Israel has to be regarded in this respect as the cultural descendant of Mesopotamia.

Despite their similarities, however, there are profound differences in the Mesopotamian and Israelite views of history. For example, I would disagree with Speiser that the law in Israel’s case was impersonal. This is a critical area of difference. Israel’s law was from a personal, covenant-making God whose character and will was reflected in the law. This is far cry from the Mesopotamian kittum. Because of the covenant, Israel saw history as being under the control of a single, omnipotent master who created all things, sustains all things and controls the course of history.[6] Unlike the gods of the surrounding nations, Yahweh’s is distinct from all the other gods in that He cares for a people while all the other gods are concerned only for their lands. Unlike the gods of the nations, Yahweh’s interests embrace all peoples in all places, not only those who worship Him.

History was, thus, seen as purposeful, not liable to the whims of capricious deities as in the Mesopotamian view, or the totalitarian authority of rulers with divine pretensions, as in the Egyptian view. History has meaning, for it is under the sovereign control of Almighty God (Trites 1977: 40). From the biblical point of view, man is bestowed with responsibility, dignity, and hope (Speiser 1976: 15).[7] In a very real sense, the biblical view is a direct rejection of both the Mesopotamian and the Egyptian views of history (Speiser 1976: 10-11). History does matter (contra Egypt) but it is not out of control (contra Mesopotamia). Hence the believer has both hope and security as we see history moving towards a climax, which the biblical authors call the "Day of the Lord."

In later times, the Jews would encounter the view of the Greeks who tended to see history as moving forwards and downwards. The golden age was past, and time was marching towards death, darkness and suffering. The Jews knew that the best was yet to come.

They looked ahead to a day when affliction and suffering would end and when justice would prevail. They knew that the present state of the world was abnormal. They recognized that this world is not all that there is. Hence, they avoided the stagnation that inevitably contributed to the collapse of the Mesopotamian, Egyptian, and Greek civilizations.

In their history, Israel saw the hand of God at work, moving them and the rest of the world towards a final goal. Suffering and affliction was part of that plan; most often depicted as a punishment for sins, a means by which God sought to restore His people to fellowship with Himself, or, on the other hand, as a means of developing and revealing spiritual maturity in the lives of His people.

Sometimes, however, suffering has a value in the mind of God that is known only to Him and was not necessarily to be understood as a means of divine punishment or discipline.[8] In such cases, it is enough for the child of God to know that God watches over even the dark and obscure ways (Gerstenberger and Schrage 1977: 115). As we see in Genesis 3:14, God’s plans for restoration require conflict, suffering and bruising of His people. It is true, as we shall see in the history of Israel, that sometimes God chose to use suffering to punish and restore the people to fellowship. Sometimes He used it for the spiritual training of His people. At other times, however, God’s people suffer for reasons known only to Himself but which serve to effectively accomplish His purposes in history (Gerstenberger and Schrage 1977: 116). As mentioned earlier, a study of the biblical view of history is essential in developing a biblical theology of persecution. An understanding that history has meaning and under divine control helps us to see persecution as not being outside of God’s plan but even essential to His method of reconciling the world to Himself.

Gerstenberger and Schrage (1977: 116) rightfully point out that there is no unitary meaning of suffering to be drawn from the Old Testament. Attempts to find such inevitably come to a point where they fail because the attempt, itself, exhibits a lack of a basic attitude of trust in God. The call to the sufferer is to entrust the distress to One who is mightier and who understands all things.

[6] A particular unique aspect of the biblical view is the assertion that Yahweh is that He controls not only the fortunes of Israel but of all nations, even those who do not worship Him and without the direct agency of His people. cf. Wright 2006: 84-85.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

In the revelation of Jesus given to John on the island of Patmos, one of the central revelations is that of Jesus standing in the midst of the churches. This is both a symbol of comfort and discomfort for the people of God. He knows what His people are going through. For those who are hurting, this can be a thing of comfort. For those who are hiding, it can be a thing of discomfort. There is nothing that is hidden from Him.

The churches to which Jesus dictates His letters to in Revelation 2-3 were real, historical churches in the Roman province of Asia Minor, in what is now modern-day Turkey. While present everywhere in the empire, the officially sanctioned worship of the Roman emperor was especially strong in the Asian provinces. The majority of these seven churches were located in cities dedicated to the promotion of the Roman civil religion that acclaimed Caesar as “Lord and God.” In such an environment, Christians were bound to experience increasing conflict as they proclaimed that Jesus was Lord and God. And whereas the Romans confessed the divinity and supremacy of Caesar out of civic duty without much religious conviction, the Christians really meant it. Jesus, not Caesar, was the only true Lord and God. All others were usurpers.

Hence, as we read these letters, it should not surprise us that many of these churches were being challenged on this point. Some responded with stubborn, uncompromising conviction and suffered for it. Others were prepared to find ways to accommodate these two claims, seeking to avoid conflict if they could. Was one group right and the other wrong? What would Jesus say? The answer is found in Revelation 2-3 and His message continues to resonate to us throughout the ages.

This is not surprising, for the issues are addressed in these seven letters are those that Christians have struggled with in any age and in any cultural setting. As I read them, I see parallels in my home church here in Mississauga as well as in churches in Ethiopia, Colombia, Nigeria, or India. By addressing seven churches (the number often used to depict completeness in Scripture), Jesus is addressing His entire Church. He addresses the letters to His messengers who are responsible for making sure that His Word is communicated accurately and faithfully. Whether the “angels” he is referring to are actual guardian angels given responsibility for each congregation, or to pastors, I am not sure. The point is, the message is meant to be heard by the church, not simply for individual edification. “Let him who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” Christianity is not a private religion; it is to be experienced and lived out in community (as imperfect as that community may be).

It is worth noting that the seven churches fall into three groups (Kiddle, 1940: 19-20; Beale, 1999: 226-227). The first and last letters in Revelation 2-3 are addressed to churches that are in danger of losing their very identity as being Christian. They are told to repent in order to prevent their judgment and to inherit the promises that genuine faith deserves. The three central letters (to Pergamum, Thyatira, and Sardis) are addressed to churches that, to varying degrees, have members who have remained faithful and those who are compromising their faith. These churches are told to purge the elements of compromise from their midst in order to advert judgment and to receive God’s promises to those who remain faithful. The second and sixth letters are written to churches that have proven themselves to be faithful and loyal to Christ’s “name” even in the midst of persecution. They are encouraged to remain faithful even as other trials arise. To those who endure will be given a victor’s crown and great promises.

In light of the condition of the churches being presented in such a literary pattern (i.e. in a chiastic pattern of a b c c c b' a') we see that, in Jesus’ eyes, the Church, as a whole, is not in good condition. This is not only because healthy churches are in a minority but because, as the literary pattern shows, the churches in the worst condition form the literary boundaries of the letters and the churches with serious problems form the very core of the message.

However, it is also worth noting that Jesus has not given up on any of these congregations, regardless of how far they have slipped off of the bubble. It is never too late to start doing the right thing.

How is your walk with the Lord? If Jesus were to write a letter to you, would it be a letter of comfort? Or a letter of concern?

Thursday, January 1, 2009

It is widely acknowledged that the parallels between first century Corinth and twenty-first century Western society are remarkable. Let me share with you a few thoughts that will likely appear in my next edition of "In the Shadow of the Cross".

First century Corinth was a relatively new city, having been founded as a Roman colony in 44 B.C after the old city of Corinth has been totally destroyed in an earthquake a century earlier. A metropolitan seaport, Corinth was intellectually alert, materially prosperous, culturally varied and religiously diverse. Individualism was greatly valued and fiercely defended. It was primarily a freedman town, ex-slaves who were aggressive, hard-working, upwardly mobile, financially successful and proud of their accomplishment. They tended to be exploitive, ruthless and willing to take great risks. There were no elite or nobility in the city. No code of conduct on how to behave oneself with one's wealth or in pursuit of it. Power, possessions and pride were valuable to these Corinthians. To rise in society was the overall goal of the Corinthian; boasting and self-display was the means of achieving that goal, and personal glory and power the reward of having achieving it.

Paul's relationship with the Corinthians was a difficult one. His letters to them are very personal. Paul stayed in Corinth for approximately eighteen months (a remarkably long time for him to be in any one place). His time there was one of relative peace and calm. When the Jews in Corinth rejected the gospel and Paul refocused his ministry to the Gentiles they did not raise up a riot as their counterparts had in other cities. The only one case of persecution in Acts 18:12-18 is so mild in comparison to others, that Paul did not even feel compelled to leave for the safety of others. We read that "he stayed for many days afterwards" (Acts 18:19).

While 2 Corinthians 1:6 does refer to the Corinthians patiently enduring suffering, it seems apparent to me that the persecution facing believers in Corinth was considerably less than in other places. Perhaps this may be in part due to the multicultural nature of the city which would have worked against organizing religiously intolerant mobs. There were some Jews in the Corinthian community but there is little in Paul's letters to the church there that suggests a Jewish background. Since most of the converts seem to have been Gentiles, the Jewish religious leaders (whose counterparts had instigated much of the opposition to Paul in other cities) may have felt that Paul was little threat to them. Or perhaps the number of Jews in Corinth were insufficient to mount an effective resistance. Whatever the reason, the church was established there with little effective resistance.

Perhaps this relative lack of resistance to the gospel and its messengers is one of the reasons why the Corinthian Christians had such a difficulty understanding the role of suffering and persecution in the life of the follower of Jesus.

Given the Corinthian's pursuit of power, wealth and glory, it is inevitable that these would have been issues that the Christians there would have struggled with as well. Humility was not viewed as a virtue; suffering and self-sacrifice were scorned. Poverty would have been seen as a curse, even if done in the service of God.

To make matters worse, after Paul left Corinth, other preachers and teachers either arrived in the city or rose up from their own midst who had little regard for Paul and his teachings. Indeed, what they taught agreed with Corinthian values completely; God's work is to be marked with power, prosperity, and pride. Among other things, they maintained that Paul's sufferings were proof that he was not a true apostle or messenger of God. To them, God's work was done in strength and power, not in weakness or suffering.

The Corinthians were critical of Paul and his ministry in four areas:

1. His boasting: Boasting of one's accomplishments was of great value to the people of Corinth. To project one's status was vital. People paraded their wealth before others. Posted signs in public places declaring their latest accomplishments. To be ignored or unknown was a great disgrace. Personal glory became an ideal to be chased after. When Paul denounced such boasting as taking the glory away from God and refuses to boast in any of his accomplishments but will only boast about those things which show how weak he is without the Lord, the Corinthians cannot understand this and they despise him for his weakness. How can this man be great when he is so weak? Sacrificing for others is not noble, in their eyes. It is foolish.

2. His physical presence: Not only that, but they also disapproved of his physical presence. He is weak (2 Cor. 10:10). What is meant here is probably not so much his health or physical condition, but the way in which he treats the Corinthians; he is gentle, meek, rather than assertive and pushy. He urges them to do the right thing, rather than bullies them. This was not the way a true leader acts, according to Corinthian culture. A true leader is one who leads through intimidation and strength. But Paul was committed to leading like Jesus; in servanthood, gentleness and meekness, not in power and force.

3. His speech: The Corinthians were also unimpressed with Paul's verbal skills. In Corinthian society, public speakers were often not highly trained. Speeches were not carefully thought through or reasoned, but geared for one purpose; to get an emotional response. They were designed to appeal to popular tastes, to gain applause from the audience or a hearty "Bravo!" "Marvelous!"

Some have mistakenly thought that Paul, when talking about wisdom in 1 & 2 Corinthians is speaking against worldly wisdom or intellectualism. Not at all! Intellectualism was not valued by the Corinthians! That was part of the problem! The content of a sermon meant very little just so long as it stirred the heart! People wanted to be amused by sermons, taken aback and overwhelmed by what was said. Public preachers specialized in delivering sermons that shocked, speaking on sensational topics and powerful deliveries that would verbally assault the audience. A good sermon was one that overwhelmed you with the power of its delivery more than with its content. How you said it became as or more important than what you said. There was little interest in doctrine in Corinth. People wanted to know about the power of the gods more than what they were like.

And so here comes Paul, presenting a well-reasoned, quiet message about the love of God and what God has done through the person of Jesus Christ. He speaks from the wisdom of God rather than the wisdom of man which its emphasis on the sensational. He relies on the power of the Spirit to change hearts rather than on the power of his words. Not very impressive - from a Corinthian perspective.

4. His support: The fourth way that Paul confounded the Corinthians was the way in which he had his financial needs met. The Corinthians want to pay him for his services and Paul refuses to accept it. He prefers to be self-supporting. Paul knew that he was under divine constraint in relation to how he conducted his ministry. In 1 Corinthians 9:15-18, he makes it clear that he would rather die than receive remuneration for his labour in the gospel. To Paul, being self-sufficient was a matter of obedience of God. If he could work, he needed to do so. Otherwise, he was being disobedient to the Lord. This, however, bothers the Corinthians. They see him as being poorer than they are and that reflects badly on them in society. The stigma of a needy religious leader would have been impossible for them to appreciate, which is exactly why Paul does it.

In all four of these areas, Paul adopts a position entirely contrary to the prevailing culture in his desire to live out his ministry in a way that is consistent with his message of the cross. In Corinth, we find a worldview in antithesis to the worldview of the cross and the suffering of Christ and His followers. To the Corinthians, Paul must interpret his sufferings in such a way that they understand that God's methodology of the cross is to be the methodology of all who follow Christ. This is how God wins His greatest victories; in weakness, not in demonstrations of power and strength.